


From Court to Garden

by alicy_sunberg33



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: I REGRET NOTHING, M/M, Tooth Rotting Fluff, completely self indulgent work, dedicated to Anthony, i love them, my new bicon, spoilers for Good night Till it be tomorrow event, the flirt is strong in this one, the latest Romeo and Juliet event basically, this is gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:08:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26781922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alicy_sunberg33/pseuds/alicy_sunberg33
Summary: How Anthony convinced Benvolio to take the stage with him.
Relationships: Benvolio/Anthony
Comments: 8
Kudos: 23





	From Court to Garden

**Author's Note:**

> ## Foreword :
> 
> In the theater field, when actors receive instructions on the stage, the play-writer or director will give them as they rehearse while they sit in the audience sits.
> 
> Sometimes, they will direct the actors, who rehearse on stage, when they have to walk from one point to another or from which side of the backstage they will come from. To determine scenic placement.  
> In English, you differentiate the two sides with Stage Left and Stage Right, choosing here the perspective of the actors on stage, facing the public. Stage Left is on their left and it’s the opposite for Stage Right. 
> 
> In French, as trying to figure out whose right and left we’re following would be tricky while staging the play, we decided to use completely arbitrary terms for each side of the backstage. _Côté Cour_ and _Côté Jardin_. As such, for Stage Right we have Court Side and for Stage Left we have Garden Side.

## From Court to Garden

“Benvolio, my good man, have lunch with me!” Anthony declared as if opening the act of the new play he starred in, as he casually walked into Benvolio’s office in the Capulet Palace.

Benvolio rose his gaze from his books to see his friend, step into his office as he would on the planks of the stages he treaded at the Rose Theater. Always brimming with confidence and with barely enough shame to be allowed into the palace. He sighed at this, but couldn’t help a smile. 

It was hard not to smile when Anthony was around.

“Hello to you too, Mister Anthony. How my I help you?”

“My word, so formal today, that felt like a freezing rain upon my heart,” he choked back a sob dramatically, hand flying to his heart, and Benvolio made a rather uncontrolled and disgraceful snort at his antics. Anthony winked then, and it was rather ridiculous, but it made his own smile widen -and his face flush as well but let’s not dwell on that. “Won’t you drop the ‘Mister’ and just call me Anthony like before, Benvolio? Only my most respectable fans call me Mister Anthony.”

“Well, I like to think I am a respectable man,” Benvolio sassed back.

“So you _are_ a fan,” Anthony gasped in fake surprise and Benvolio was chuckling now.

“I don’t think I made a secret of that!”

“Well, no, but that just adds to the list of things I can tease you about,” Anthony grinned as he settled on the chair opposite to his own.

“As if there wasn’t enough already,” Benvolio muttered, hiding the blush he gained on his cheek as the other man just gave him probably his best smile yet. He took a breath and tried to gain back his composure, and usual polite smile. “So, Anthony,” his friend beamed and Benvolio rolled his eyes, “was there something you needed?”

“Lunch! With you. Today? I have something to show you, and I dare presume that you will want to see it.”

“Will I, now?” Benvolio asked amused. “By the way, you came in rather easily. Did you make a friend out of all the staff in the palace?”

“What nonsense! I haven’t set foot in the kitchens yet.”

Benvolio then laughed openly, and he didn’t see the fond stare on Anthony’s face as he did.

“In all seriousness, our dearest Rosalind kindly let me in, as you had no appointments today, apparently,” Anthony explained, settling his chin in his hand.

“I see, Well she’s not wrong,” Benvolio agreed, contemplating the clock by the window as he calmed down. 

He stared out the open windows for a moment, hearing the bustling of the town below. To think that he almost had destroyed it...

“What’s on your mind, Benvolio?”

Anthony’s voice was surprisingly soft. Almost tender. Benvolio looked back at him and he looked serious and slightly concerned. 

“Nothing much,” Benvolio smiled, trying to be reassuring. “Just trying to consider the lunch. I still have some work to do...”

“What’s wrong with a bit of dilly dallying every once in a while. Plus this is also about work!”

“Oh? Is it?”

“I promise you it is.”

Benvolio raised a skeptic eye brow and when Anthony just looked at him with the eyes of an excited and crafty fox, he just sighed.

“Oh well. At noon then? Here?”

“How about in town? I know a nice café right next to the palace entrance.”

“Oh, the one with the lemon pastries?”

“That’s the one! See you then?”

“Yes!”

Anthony got up with a wink and Benvolio blushed again because he couldn’t get used to his forwardness. 

Once Anthony left, Benvolio had to pass his hand over his face to calm the heat covering it. What was wrong with him?! He could admit he was rather shy, but to the point to be flustered by this man’s every action...? He must’ve had a fever, or so he would think if this reaction didn’t happen _nearly every time he met with him_.

He had not known the man since long, having met him barely a mere few months prior, and very early on, Anthony had pierced through the walls of courtesy and politeness Benvolio had put around himself like it was nothing. He had not let anyone else see his vulnerability, his desire to serve Verona with Romeo Montague leading it, his disappointment and despair when he learnt of the “death” of his liege and dearest cousin, and the exacerbation of these feelings when that death turned out to be faked and that Romeo had no intention to sit on his country’s throne. And then Anthony came in and slammed it all to the ground with his determination, passion, and quite honestly, an unfair amount of charisma and empathy. 

Now that Benvolio had revealed to his close ones his true feelings, “ _rather dramatically_ ”, Anthony had teased, he did feel lighter and more at peace with the situation, and Romeo’s will. 

However, he still felt like he could do more and it was on the tip of his tongue. He had a lot of work cut out for him in the Palace, as Lady Juliet’s advisor, especially as they were pushing on the transition to a true republic in Verona. He was the spearhead of that project, having studied abroad in many different foreign governances.

Still, something was missing. There was more to be done... He could almost taste the idea, but it was still out of his grasp. Anthony might have a clue for him. It wouldn’t be that much of a stretch, since he helped him understand many things about himself before.

After thinking about it for much too long, and when the clock rang midday, he realized he would not be able to get any work done. It was hard to admit but Anthony had successfully pulled him into whatever this new plot of his was.

He sighed and got up to warn Rosalind he was going out for a bit. He did not really appreciate the knowing smile she gave him when she told him to “enjoy his lunch”.

He found Anthony reading something that looked like a script, sitting at a terrasse table at the café they chose to meet up at, surrounded by ivy and a bit out of the Main Street. 

The town was bustling under the cloudless sky. Benvolio stared at it for a moment, smiling quietly to himself. The city was shining brightly, and it was when he thought that they “did good work” with this place, that he finally noticed he had been part of that effort. A quiet pride emerged inside of him, warming his heart. He was grateful to Lord Romeo and Lady Juliet. For their help, and their patience with him. 

But he was also grateful to someone else...

The table Anthony had chosen was in a place calmer than the rest of the establishment. Many people were already enjoying a nice meal, mostly young nobles and bourgeois, some faces Benvolio recognized for being part of the young nobility faction he and Rosalind led for Lady Juliet. As he passed by the tables, he was recognized by some, and took his time to answer their greetings and catch up with them, before finally joining his friend.

As Benvolio approached, Anthony beamed at him and showed him the sit across from his.

“I knew you were coming,” Anthony boasted.

“I literally confirmed to you that I would come,” Benvolio deadpanned, as he sat.

“You certainly did. That’s how I knew,” Anthony winked and Benvolio sighed.

“Now, now, enough with the long face,” Anthony chided with a smirk. “I see your familiar with everybody here.” He signed for the waiter, who brought them menus.

“You’re one to talk,” Benvolio frowned, opening the menu. “How many autographs did you sign before I came here?” 

“Oh barely a dozen,” Anthony shrugged, exaggerating his nonchalance. Again Benvolio rolled his eyes. “But that’s hardly comparable, my friend. While I have a lot of people who know me for my work, most of those who greet me, I’ve never met before! You however, seemed to know personally most of them.”

“That is not a hard feat, especially considering this is a popular spot for young nobles,” Benvolio replied nonchalantly. “I can’t really pretend to know all the people in Verona.”

“See, you’re doing it again,” Anthony sighed back.

“What do you mean?” Benvolio raised an eyebrow.

“Not admitting that you have skills. That you are talented at what you do, that you know a lot of people, a lot of countries, and that’s why you sit as a Counselor.”

“Well, that is only thanks to –“

“As much as I respect Lady Juliet, the only reason why she chose you is because of who you are, didn’t she?” Anthony interrupted him gently. Benvolio thinned his mouth. 

“Is it so hard to admit that you have skills and talents, that only you can do?” Anthony asked softly.

Benvolio chuckled bitterly.

“Somehow, the flaws seems to counterweight whatever else there is.”

“I will kindly disagree with you. So will Lady Juliet.” He leant in closer, whispering: “And so will Lord Romeo.”

Benvolio looked up from behind the menu to stare back at Anthony’s serious face. He felt more embarrassed than usual, especially because he knew that Anthony was right. But a part of him, the stubborn one, who kept him inside his mourning and fantasies of before, still had a hard time believing those words. 

“If you say so,” he finally admitted. He knew it wasn’t exactly what his friend wanted to hear, but that seemed to satisfy him for now. If anything, Anthony was probably as stubborn as he was. He would not let this go until Benvolio started to agree with him completely on this. This might take a while. But Benvolio secretly loved that Anthony tried so hard for him. He felt honored and humbled by it. He didn’t want to disappoint him. He ought to give it a try, at the very least.

“Indeed I do,” Anthony beamed at him. Benvolio smiled back, albeit a bit shyly, then realized that their faces were a bit too close for courtesy and lowered his gaze back to the menu, ignoring the heat spreading under his skin. Anthony followed suit, settling comfortably against the back of the chair, and Benvolio discreetly took a look at him.

Under the sunlight, Anthony’s charisma was almost criminal. It was getting harder and harder for Benvolio not to stare at him blatantly, because there was a good dose of admiration and gratefulness mixed and the many feelings he had when he was with Anthony. But... well... he was terribly handsome, but that was a fact that everyone knew in Verona and beyond.

When the waiter came back, he brought with him a teapot with two cups that Anthony had ordered prior to his arrival. They ordered their meals and as the waiter left with the menus, Anthony poured tea for each of their cups.

“So,” Benvolio finally asked after receiving his cup and taking a sip. “What was it that you wanted to show me?”

Anthony grinned and slapped on the table the script he was reading earlier. On it was scribbled with a handwriting Benvolio knew now by heart: 

_The Field of Flowers_

“Is that...?” Benvolio stuttered.

“Yep. The new script from the one and only Bill the Bard.” 

“This is great news. I am pleased to see it is finally out,” Benvolio smiled, gently holding the script in his hands. “But why ever would show it to me?” 

“Because Lord Romeo wanted you to read it,” Anthony smiled fondly.

“Really?” Benvolio looked up at him, then at the script.

“Yes. I think you will notice with the date, that this is a work he started writing a few months ago. Way before this anti-Capulet mess happened. But he recently changed the ending and we will start the production any day now. We’re just missing a few actors here and there...,” he added casually, but Benvolio had already started reading it, enraptured. Anthony chuckled lightly and let him, enjoying his cup of tea and watching a completely focused Benvolio, oblivious to the attention given by his friend. 

Half an hour was spent during which the teapot was consumed almost entirely by Anthony, the meals were brought and untouched because he waited for Benvolio to finish, and many customers had already left, leaving room for another batch. Anthony cared little for the rest because watching Benvolio like this was already a show in itself.

Anthony was quite taken with Benvolio, if he was being honest. What’s not to love really? He was passionate, humble –almost to a fault–, determined, kind, sensitive, dignified, witty, with a brilliant intellect, a drive to protect his homeland that would put any patriotic soldier to shame, and well... he was gorgeous, really. He didn’t notice it himself because he could be oblivious like that, but as soon as he walked under the sun, a lot of heads turned to contemplate this beautiful, fair-haired young man passing by.

But more than anything, what Anthony loved in Benvolio was his growth, and his emotional intelligence. There was hardly anything more beautiful than these. Because watching them unfold to the world had been what revealed Benvolio to be an _actor of great talent_. Anthony wanted more than anything to see Benvolio triumph on stage, and he would be the first to applaud him. 

And also trying to surpass him, because honestly, finding such a magnificent rival in him was probably what he found the most attractive. 

Anthony was a selfish creature, after all. And nothing pushed you more out of your own limits than the presence of a rival and partner by your side. 

And so Anthony now only had one thing in mind.

Benvolio finally closed the script, and Anthony saw him scrubbing lightly at his eye, trying to hide the tears prickling at its corner.

“What do you think?” Anthony asked when Benvolio smiled up at him, eyes red and flustered. Gods, but he was so beautiful.

“It’s a marvelous story. I cannot wait to see it being played.”

“I feel the same. But doesn’t it give you ideas?” 

“How do you mean?” Benvolio was still scrubbing his eye, and Anthony jumped on the occasion to pull out a handkerchief for him. Benvolio sighed but nodded gratefully and dried his eyes with it. 

“We are still missing a few roles. Especially the one for the Enemy Soldier.”

“You have no one for such an important role?” Benvolio frowned concerned.

“I made a reservation.”

“Oh, so you do have someone in mind. Who would that be?”

Anthony smiled slowly at him. Benvolio waited. When no answer came, he frowned. Then realization dawned on him, and Anthony could feel his own smile widen.

“ _You can’t be serious_.” Benvolio asked incredulously. 

“I absolutely am.”

“You cannot–“

“I absolutely can.”

“I can’t–“

“You absolutely can.”

“I have never stepped on a stage! I only know to do one thing, and that’s sitting behind a desk, counseling our leaders, that’s it! I can’t be an actor, especially not for a second-lead role! Written by Lord– Bill the Bard himself and...”

He stopped and stared at the script he was holding between his hands.

“Lies, all of it,” Anthony declared, and Benvolio winced. “When we improvised a play together with Lady Juliet and her skyfaring friends, you were clearly the best of them. You’re supposed to be an amateur? I say you belong on a stage. I’ve seen it and I will stand by it. Dare I say that Lady Juliet will most certainly agree with me on this. She is an expert after all.”

Benvolio went silent. 

“I don’t think I deserve to play such an important character...”

“Hm. Tell me, Benvolio, why is it that you cried when you finished reading this work?”

“Huh? Well, I...”

He thought for a moment.

“I was very emotional when I read the last scene. It... I felt it was as if Lord Romeo himself answered my feelings from all those months ago...”

“Right. That’s the scene he changed. You understand why you felt that way while reading it, don’t you?”

Benvolio thinned his lips, hesitating. 

“Come on, I know you’re more clever than that,” Anthony insisted, leaning on his elbows. 

“I felt that those words were addressed to me...”

“I couldn’t agree more. I think that more people in Verona need to hear this as well. Wouldn’t you think so?”

Benvolio smiled sadly then nodded. There was a quietness to the moment, then he seemed to decide on something. 

“I am a beginner on all accounts,”’ he started, humbly.

Anthony blinked then grinned.

“That you may be, but trust me when I say you are talented. Might I be so bold as to say you were born for this, but I have a thing against determinism, so let’s just say you have what it takes!”

Benvolio chuckled at his words.

“There might be someone better for this...”

“That’s a shame because I told them that I knew the perfect person for this role, and they believed me, and most importantly, I believe in what I saw when you acted in the streets.”

“I will need some pointers...”

“All novices needs some pointers eventually, but I’m certain you won’t need me for long,” he reassured genially.

“That’s not true. I’m pretty sure I’ll always need you,” Benvolio confessed quietly. 

Anthony stared back at him. Saw the fluster on his friend’s ears and cheeks. Slowly realized that there was a meaning under that quiet confession, and that this meaning was directed at him, and he had to cough to hide his own blush. “Right. Glad to hear that. Really.” 

Benvolio chuckled shyly at his surprisingly awkward words. “I didn’t think anything I would say could put you in such a state, Anthony.”

“Well in my defense, anyone would be surprised if the one they flirted with, flirted back with this much honesty.” 

“Who says I was being honest?”

They stared, before Benvolio gave him a sly smile, devastatingly handsome on his face, and Anthony scoffed, then laughed openly.

“Oh my, how the tables have turned! I told you you wouldn’t need me for long! Look at you go, tricking the famous actor at his own game!! I can’t wait to see you on stage, you will be marvelous.”

“I learnt from the best,” Benvolio smiled, looking pretty proud with his performance. “It was really nice to see you flustered like this. I might get used to it.”

“Oof, beware ladies and gentlemen, we have just unleashed a beast of acting and beauty unto the skydom. I’m not sure my heart will be able to handle it.”

“Worry not, I’ll take good care of it.”

Anthony sputtered again and glared at the gleaming eyes of Benvolio, face full of mirth.

“My good sir, you are a _tease_ ,” Anthony accused. 

“You are one to talk!” Benvolio protested, trying to stop himself from smiling, but failing miserably.

“I stand by my words. You will most definitely be the death of me,” Anthony declared with fatality. 

Benvolio laughed, taking his words as a compliment, and Anthony just watched as his face relaxed completely, and it was like the sun shining down on him after a rainy day. A sight for sore eyes.

“So what will it be, Benvolio? Will you accept this role?”

“Yes. Please take care of me, my dear senior,” Benvolio bowed slightly and Anthony beamed at him, grasping his shoulder enthusiastically.

“Let us finish this meal. Then I suggest we visit our common bard friend, and discuss with him about the new actor who will join the cast for his brand new play. I’m sure he will be thrilled.”

“I hope so,” Benvolio sighed, shyness coming back. 

Anthony poured them both a glass of wine, then raised his own, inviting Benvolio to do the same.

“To Verona the Great, to Bill the Bard and his beloved, and to the Rose Theater and its new rising star.”

“Please stop,” Benvolio groaned, clinking his drink with his. Still his eyes were twinkling. 

“ _Never_ ,” Anthony promised.


End file.
